The Beginning of A Raider
by MorganShepard
Summary: A young boy gives a account of what it's like to be attacked by Raiders and taken into their group. Rated M for language.


**The Raider**

The first thing I remember is the sound of battle. Raiders had attacked my family at their ranch out past Big Town. It was only a small Brahmin ranch and they should have known we'd have nothing of value. Little did I know, that this attack would change the direction of my life permanently.

They attacked us through our northern gate. I remember running outside and seeing the barn on fire. The barn where I had spent most of my short childhood. Dad was out on the silo balcony, firing his rifle down at the Raiders. Mom was trying to keep me and my 2 sisters safe inside. One of the Raiders got my father in the shoulder and he dropped his rifle down the balcony. Then they got him again, this time a killing head blow. Mom started to cry and that's when I made my move. I bolted away from my mother and ran for the silo ladder where Dad's rifle was. She tried to grab me but I was always a slippery little bastard.

I was 13 so he had given me a little bit of time with it but only enough to learn basic safety and operation. I had studied more in depth the way he used it by watching him practice on our makeshift range. The way he didn't just pop off rounds as fast as he could. He took time to line up his shots. The one thing he hadn't taught me was how to hold it when I fired. This would cost me. I ran over, picked it up, lined up the sights on the chest of one of the closer Raiders, and fired. The kickback of the big .308 round sent the barrel popping up at me and it clocked me right between the eyes. More or less knocked me cold.

The next thing I remember after regaining conscience was me laying on the couch in my living room and the Raiders were in my house. I rolled my head to the left and saw...saw…them things, I couldn't call them monsters because that would be a insult to monsters, doing something that even I, in my now hardened state, could never EVER bring myself to do. They were...fucking my 15 year old sister, Cheryl, on a chair on the other side of the room.

Only one of them, didn't know where the rest were but I didn't really care. I surveyed the room, looking for anything to beat this guy's ass with. I saw it. A machete, beaten and nearly broken from near zero maintenance, but it was a machete none the less. I waited for the right moment. I had to look away, only peeking over to see what spot he was in. I looked over for what I thought was the 1000th time and saw as he changed positions to continue. I rolled off the couch, grabbed the machete from along the wall, and charged the fucker.

He heard me move but it was too late for him. I stabbed the machete right down through the base of his head. I didn't know at the time since I was a mere kid but I had stabbed him right through the brain stem. He was dead before he even fell on top of Cheryl. Thank god for shock for she didn't try to scream till I already had my hand over her mouth, motioning for her to be quiet. She nodded and we pulled the dead Raider off of her and hid the body in a closet. We talked quietly for a moment and decided she'd go out and wait behind the now smoldering barn while I tried to go and find where the rest of them were and where Mom and Tanya, my other sister, were.

I grabbed the Raider's combat knife and inspected it. It said "Stabhappy" on the blade, which was really clean for a Raider's weapon. I crouched down and started moving through my house. I looked through the downstairs and found nothing when I heard one of them coming down the stairs. I moved to and peaked around the corner and saw him walking down the short hall to where Cheryl and I had been. He yelled "Daryl? Where the fuck did you go? This isn't the time for fucking games, dickweed." I quickly moved up behind him and when he rounded the corner and found we weren't there, he reached for his sidearm, a .32 pistol with a silencer on it, but when he didn't find it, he turned around to find it stuffed in his face.

He never even had the chance to open his mouth when I put a .32 into it with a thud. What a Raider was doing with a silenced weapon, I'll never know. Maybe they'd planned on sneaking in but Dad saw them before they could or they'd planned on only wounding us while they stripped our house of what little valuables we had. That would of worked because the silencer reduced the muzzle speed and hitting power enough to inflict wounds instead of kills, save headshots.

I don't know but I'm glad he had it because I wasn't tall enough to get another head stab in nor would he have died by simple stabbing before he yelled to his friends. On any account, I had killed my second Raider. I hid his body in the closet, which was no small feat considering how little and weak I was. I fiddled with the .32 for a minute and quickly figured out how to operate it. Nice little weapons, those .32 pistols. They use a common ammo but they lack in stopping power so most only use them as backup weapons or for stealthy headshots. They're also unique in revolver circles because the cylinder pushes forward and makes a gas seal, which allows the silencer to operate. Without that, all the gases would exit out of the front of the cylinder and make the silencer pointless.

I quickly grabbed a few bullets off his body and replaced the empty ones in my gun. Moved back to the steps and slowly walked up them. I had to skip over the 9th one because if I stepped on it, it would creak. When I got to the top, I stopped at the corner and listened. I determined there was two of them to the left in that room and three in the other. I decided to take the bigger threat on. I had read about and studied the Pre-War spies from books and such. I idolized them even. I was sure I could duplicate their ability to clear a room without anyone even realizing they were there. I checked the .32 and readied myself. The door to the room was slightly open, enough for me to slide in without having to move it.

I slipped in and put the sights right on the back of the head of the middle Raider. I pulled the trigger and put him to the ground. The left one started to spin around and I quickly put a .32 in the side of his head. The last one had turned around and was getting ready to pull up his Hunting Rifle when I put the sights of the pistol right at his throat and pulled the trigger. Nothing, the ammo was cracked and water had soaked in, ruining the powder. The last Raider smirked, kept his rifle trained on me, and yelled to the others "Hey guys, get over here. I got something."

The other two Raiders moved over to where I was trapped in the corner and I looked behind them and saw what I didn't want to. There layed Mom and Tanya, both naked and dead. My little mind quickly filled in what happened and I started to get scared and was almost ready to cry. Both because I had failed and because of what they did to them. Then one of the Raiders got me in the face with his fist and yelled at me "You think you're a tough guy, eh? You think you could take us on? We took out your daddy and your little bitch ass sister and pus bitch sister. You don't think we won't…. Hey, Jon, ain't that Judas' .32?" One of the Raiders grabbed the revolver out of my hands and looked it over. "Damn, you're right. I'm going to check for him." He stormed off down the stairs. I knew he'd find the bodies and was sure they'd kill me.

When he came back up, the first thing he did was beat me across the face with his Combat Shotgun. "This little piece of shit killed Judas, Cain, Joe, AND Daryl!" He aimed his shotgun right at my chest but the last Raider, who had been standing behind and leaning against the wall and just watching, leaped at him before his gun went off and knocked it out of his hands. "HEY! Let me talk to him first. Alone." The Shotgun Raider snickered back "Wow Fitch, I knew you liked it both ways but I didn't know you'd…" He was quickly interrupted by a right fist across his face and followed up by a left handed uppercut to his stomach "Fuck you, bitch! You better remember, _Connelly_, that I RUN THIS FUCKING SHOW! You should show me some goddamn respect for keeping us from tearing each other's fucking throats out! Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to fucking talk to the young shit and see if he'll accept. Now, GET THE HELL OUT!"

The three Raiders quickly left the room, leaving only me and the leader. He sat down in my dad's old chair and motioned me to sit in my mom's chair. I sat down and he leaned back and lit a cigarette. "So, you killed our four friends? With what?" I gulped and explained what had happened. He, Fitch, just sat, smoked, and listened.

When I finished, he laughed and took a long draw and exhaled it. "Well shit," he said "You know, those guys were our first losses in a long time and we lose them to a fucking 13 year old with nothing more than a rusted machete and one of our own damn guns. Well, I got to hand it to you kid, you've shown your bloody proficient in combat, even if it is your first time. Tell you what, we could use someone like you. Someone who can hold his own in combat. Why don't you join us? I know you're young but we can teach you a little more, maybe some good hand to hand moves, and in a little time, you'll be a whirlwind of fucking death. What do ya say?"

I sat there and thought real hard about his proposition. I must of sat there for a good 10 minutes and he said "Oh and take your time, we've got plenty of that." I took his offer and continued to think for at least another 20 minutes. I asked a few questions and he answered them, rather politely for a Raider. I would be a equal, same rights and everything as the others, I wouldn't have to fight with them until I was ready, I would get a share of the loot equal to my participation and my sister could stay with me and that I had his promise she would not be forced to do anything she didn't want to.

I accepted. I decided the course of my destiney there, in that room, that day. He laughed and finished his cigarette. He snuffed it out on the arm of the chair and sat up. He said "Ok then kid, welcome. We call ourselves "The Family" for we're all just one big fucking happy fucking family. We have a few rules I didn't tell you about but they're easy to follow and you're a damn smart kid and shouldn't have any trouble with them. One, don't fucking lie. Period. You lie, you get beat. That's how we deal with every situation. You break the rules, you get a fucking beatdown. How bad you get beaten and how long, depends on how bad the offense was and if you resist the beating. Two, we have a simple way to decide who gets what loot. You find something you want, you call out 'Claimed'. If someone else has already claimed something, then you can't. Simple, but it fucking works. Course, you'll only be allowed to take as much loot as you participated. There isn't any fucking freeloaders in this damn group. Three, don't steal. You do, you get beat. You get found out stealing and lie about it, you get beat twice as much and twice as hard. You admit you did and the beating is actually halved. We appreciate and reward honesty. It's a commodity that's too fucking hard to find out here. Lastly, you don't kill another member of the group. You can bring dishonesty, suspicious behavior, or some such shit to the attention of everyone first and we'll work out the bullshit from there. If it's found that a member is a danger to the rest of us, the one who brought it up is allowed to kill them in whatever fashion they see fit. The only exception is betrayal. If you have solid proof a member has betrayed our group, then you may kill them immediately but you'll have to show your proof. We may fall under the banner of 'Raiders,' but we're organized Raiders. Now that that's out of the way, we have to discuss about you killing four of us. That guy you took a shot at outside survived. If you didn't notice, that was him, the one with that shotgun, that was going to put a load of buckshot in your fucking chest. His name's Connelly but we all call him Connor at his request. If you want to get on his nerves, call him Connelly, like I did. Roughs his ass up a good bit. Anyway, it's going to have to be let up to the group since you damn well didn't know about our rules and certainly never fucking expected to be joining us. I'll do my best and convince them otherwise, but I'm pretty sure you're going to be in for one hell of a beating. Let's go meet the rest of them."

We stood up and walked out and down the stairs to the others standing around outside. They all flashed looks as we walked, wondering what the hell a little boy was following Fitch for. We stopped and they all surrounded us. Connelly, Connor, spoke up first. "So, what was the little shit's answer?" Fitch snapped back at him "He's accepted and understands the rules as we know them." Another one, the one who grabbed the silenced .32 out of my hand and who's name I remember being Jon, spoke next. "That mean he knows he's going to get his ass kicked from here to the Potomac for killing our friends?" Fitch replied simply "Yes but I don't see how he would of known not to put a fucking .32 into each of us since he didn't know he'd join us. I say let this single one slide but next offense, he's open game."

The other Raiders, whose names I didn't know yet, seemed to nod, understand and accept this fact. The only ones who didn't were Connor and Jon, who wanted me punished for killing their friends. The rest of them overruled those two and they stormed off, swearing up a storm and bitching about bullshit or something. Fitch then asked for me to take him to go get my sister and we walked out to the smoldering ruins of the barn with him and rounded behind and found my sister. She jumped and fell on her ass at the sight of Fitch behind me but I just extended my hand and said "We're with them now."

She obvious questioned me in a manner that you'd expect. After a prolonged talk, she finally took my hand and jumped up, hugged me, and whispered in my ear " I hope you know what you're doing." We went in the house and got what very few possessions we had. My dad's rifle had been claimed by Fitch but he gave it back to me and we followed the group of Raider back to their hideout, a pair of lean-tos on the bank of the deteriorating Potomac.

Fitch showed me each of the dozen Raider's possessions and told me what stff was claimed by who. I noticed there was a pair of bedrolls on the dock was that weren't claimed. I went over to them, yelled claimed, and set my stuff down and sat down, my sister sitting next to me. We just sat there, holding each other and reflecting on the loss of our parents and sister. Fitch walked over and looked down at me till I looked up. "Alright kid, get some rest. Tomorrow we'll do your invitation."

I asked him what he was talking about and he explained that to prove we were able and willing to be with them, they'd have to beat us down and if we were able to stand afterward and able to take a hunting rifle and shoot down a can at 150 yards, we'd be accepted. This didn't include my sister because he knew she'd not be able to do it. So we settled in and ate some of the food I'd claimed from my house and we went to bed pretty quickly.

I was woke by Fitch kicking my arm telling me to get up. I slowly got to my knees and looked over to see my sister still asleep. I asked Fitch if it was ok she was able to stay there and he said yeah and that he would see that she'd be safe. I followed him over to the group as they cracked their knuckles, getting ready to beat me down. I readied myself and I stepped in the middle of the group of 10 Raiders, the other two were off to make sure my sister stayed safe. I didn't even realize I had been encircled when the first Raider, someone named Kyler Hit but they had renamed him to Big Muscle or Mus due to his massive strength, had got me right in the back of the head and took me right off my feet. Then they all started either kicking me or throwing right hands.

Another Raider, named Sharps because of his work with a rifle, grabbed me by my throat and lifted me up and off the ground and gave me 3 left hits right in the face and then threw me up as high and hard as he could and when I came back down, he gave me a uppercut straight to the chin. I landed face up in the dirt. He then threw me his hunting rifle and I slowly dragged myself to my feet and sat on my knees, looking at the rifle. He then spoke "Now you have exactly 15 seconds to get on your feet and put a .308 into that can sitting over there." and he pointed in its direction.

15...14...13. I climbed to my feet and dragged the rifle up with me 12...11...10. I painfully pulled the rifle up and held it shakily in my hands, barely able to hold it up 9...8...7. I layed my head on its stock and stared down the shaking iron sights at the tin can sitting about 150 yards away from me 6...5...4. Suddenly a calming wind blew past and I had renewed strength. I pulled the rifle tightly against my shoulder, spread my feet slightly, and lined the sight up with the can 3...2. I breathed in and slowly released it. ...1 I slowly squeezed the trigger and the large 7.62mm bullet jumped out of the barrel, speeding down range at twice the speed of sound, hitting the can and blowing a hole straight through it, not even knocking the can over. The Raiders all slowly turned their heads to me and I recited a lone phrase I remember learning from my books "One shot…" I cycled the bolt, ramming it home with authority. "...One kill" and then collapsed on the ground from the pain.


End file.
